


At the Frozen Food Section

by morphia



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, steve has OCD, tony is blind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1619990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphia/pseuds/morphia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>iwritestony prompted:  An AU where Tony is blind and Steve has OCD and they meet at a grocery store. In the frozen food section, Tony asks a nearby stranger if he could grab him one of the frozen dinners from inside the cases, describing the exact one, Tony hears the door open and close three times before he receives it.<br/>When Tony asks Steve if he can touch his face to know what he looks like, Steve asks if his hands are clean.</p><p>I had to give it a try.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iwritestony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritestony/gifts).



> iwritestony prompted: An AU where Tony is blind and Steve has OCD and they meet at a grocery store. In the frozen food section, Tony asks a nearby stranger if he could grab him one of the frozen dinners from inside the cases, describing the exact one, Tony hears the door open and close three times before he receives it.  
> When Tony asks Steve if he can touch his face to know what he looks like, Steve asks if his hands are clean.
> 
> I had to give it a try.

 

There were many ways in which blindness could be a pain in the ass. Tony was no stranger to any of them. He could get along pretty well for the most part, and when he really absolutely had to, he turned to his PA, Pepper Potts. Grocery shopping, he'd insisted, was not one of these cases. He could recognize most of the foodstuff he bought by touch, but now, standing at the frozen goods section, which he could tell by the smell and the low hum of the refrigerators, he faced a difficult issue. The frozen dinners came in identical containers, and he loathed to get the wrong ones. Again.

"Excuse me," Tony said as he heard shuffling footsteps approaching. "Could you get me the Roasted Sesame Chicken? It's the green healthy choice with the broccoli and mushroom." The stranger didn't answer, but Tony assessed he was heard, and he figured there was some confusion as to why he'd requested this, so he touched the dark sunglasses perched on his nose. "I can't really tell them apart by touch." He explained.

Even without being too close to the stranger, Tony could register a sudden inhale of breath. "Oh, I'm sorry, let me get it for you." The young man's voice was earnest, a pleasant, if somewhat startled baritone. The door beside them opened. And then closed. And then opened again. Tony counted seven repetitions before the frozen package was shoved in his hands. He grasped it for a moment, surprised, then smiled slightly.

"Thank you, uh..."

"It's Steve." The voice provided.

"Steve." Tony said, testing the name on his lips with a smile. "I'm Tony." Tony said, holding out his hand for a shake. There was a beat of hesitation, or at least, Tony waited a few seconds. He heard three quick, shallow breaths, and then a warm hand fitted itself into his own. He received a rather mechanical three-shakes handshake, after which the hand disappeared, and the sound of a cap opening followed. He tilted his head at the sound, curiosity piqued. "Huh."

"I'm- I…" Steve said, sounding breathless, like he'd been punched or like his lungs aren't getting enough oxygen in them, but Tony didn't let him retreat just yet.

"Hey, Steve-" He reached forward, touching nothing but air, but he knew Steve was still there. "Can I touch your face?" And Steve, who was probably still calculating a way to squirm out of the situation with his dignity intact, paused. Tony couldn't even hear him breathing.

"What?!" Was all Steve managed to let out, and it was enough for Tony to detect shock, disbelief, and a hint of disgust in that tone. He shoved aside his knee-jerk self-hating instinctive response.

"To know what you look like. I can't… I have to touch."

Steve didn't answer right away, but Tony could tell this silence was more contemplative than panicked, he considered it a win. When Steve spoke next, Tony was surprised, but in hindsight he figured, he shouldn't have been.

"Are your hands clean?"

"I can't really wash them around here…" Tony answered, a little affronted. He dumped the frozen dinner in the shopping cart he had with him and tried reaching out for Steve again, or where he assumed he was.

"sanitary hand gel." Steve said, and Tony was momentarily confused, until instead of a person, he suddenly had a handful of gel.

"Is that gelled alcohol?" Tony asked, bewildered even as he did what any sane person would do, and rubbed his hands together before bringing them to his face to sniff. It smelt faintly antiseptic, but not unpleasant. Once the material was spread evenly, he held out his hands. "We good?"

Instead of answering, Steve took his hands and guided them towards his face. Tony took a moment before starting to trace the lines of the man's face. It was a skill he had taken a long time to refine. Losing his eyesight had been a terrible blow, but Tony was not one to give up because of a small laboratory experiment gone wrong. So he took a while, but he learned to 'see' faces with his hands. "Damn…" He said quietly. "What color are your eyes? Don't tell me. Blue. It's blue, isn't it? Are you dark blond or-" and then a delightful sound hit his ears. Steve was laughing. Tony took his hands away, to not overstay his welcome, and grinned.

"Yeah… My eyes are blue. And it's light blond, actually." Steve supplied once he settled down, the laughter helping him relax a little.

"Aww a hot blond at the grocery store! Talk about cliche." Tony said, "If only I could see…" He trailed off, still smiling despite himself, even as Steve, he noticed, had fallen silent. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh…"

"Why 7? And then, why 3?" He bet Steve would understand what he meant, and he was delighted to be proven right.

"It's different for human interaction and inanimate objects." Steve said after a moment, "It can't be one, two is an even number, three is still not enough. Five is half of ten, awful number. Six is even. Seven is the first one that's odd and not- bad." His breath hitched on the last word, but Tony didn't question it. He also kept from asking about four. "As for the handshake… You can't shake once, twice is even, and three is just before it goes into the unbearable-number realm. Seven would be awkward for a handshake and-"

"I like it!" Tony declared. "I like you. Will you go out with me? On a date?" The silence that followed was deafening, and Tony couldn't bear to even think about going deaf on top of everything, but he could've sworn Steve wasn't breathing at all again. He waited it out for a bit longer, but nothing followed. Tony felt the air in front of him. "Steve? Did you teleport out of here?"

"Okay." Steve answered, leaving Tony reeling for a second. He didn't know how he'd gotten from trying to get some frozen dinner to asking a random guy out on date, but he rolled with it.

"Alright!" Tony responded. Where did that enthusiasm come from? Did he have too many coffee cups today? Possibly. Probably. "So this is what we'll do," He said, fishing for his phone in his pocket.

"I can't…" Steve started saying, but Tony was already fumbling with the device.

"Hey J., you up?"

"As always, sir." the phone spoke, and Tony had a moment of joy at imagining how startled Steve must be.

"It talks." Steve said, sounding once more a combination of horrified and disgusted.

"It's my AI. I made him. Jarvis, this is Steve."

"My pleasure." The AI said.

"Steve, you can just give Jarvis your number so that I'll be able to call you and set a date." Tony urged.

For a moment there was another silence, but before Tony could ask again, Steve started speaking, giving Jarvis his phone number.

"The number has been recorded." Jarvis declared. "Will there be anything else?"

"We're good. Thanks J." Tony said, shoving the phone in his pocket even as the AI responded politely. Then, Tony turned to the direction Steve's voice had come from. "I'll call you." He said, smiling as he reached into the shopping cart and fumbled for the frozen dinner. "Thanks for the help." He said, lifting the food before waving his hand. He wasn't going to make Steve uncomfortable with touch a third time on their first meeting.

"Do you need anything else?" Steve asked, probably uncomfortable with leaving a disabled man to fend for himself, but Tony didn't take it personally.

"I can get around the store on my own, but thank you." Tony said, "I gotta get back to my workshop anyway." He added, and pulled out his phone again. "Talk to me, J. Nearest exit."

~


	2. On the Phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by popular demand - more.

 

Tony had made a point of not calling tall and blond right away. He got home, sat with his projects for a couple of hours, and then wandered towards his kitchen to eat. Jarvis had politely refrained from asking, but Tony figured it was time.

"You know what." He said, leaning against the counter as the microwave worked next to him. "I think it's time I install some more sensors on that phone of mine."

"Very well, sir. What sensors will you be installing?"

"We'll start with an actual camera that you'll be able to use to detect different foods. Talking to strangers isn't going to work every time." The microwave beeped, and Tony grabbed the food out of it before going to his dining table. "I'll want a 3D scanner so you'll be able to document things, the GPS isn't cutting it. I walked into three people on the way out today."

"My apologies." Jarvis said, and then something bumped into his side gently. Tony smiled.

"Miss me, Dum-E?" He asked, reaching over to pat his beloved creation. The small bot whirred and bumped into his arm. "Figures."

"The parts have been ordered. Delivery shall arrive earliest tomorrow morning."

"Thanks J, what would I do without you."

"I believe Miss Potts would have had a harder time than she already does."

"Cruel." Tony retorted, before turning to his food. Eating had not been an easy task for a long while, until Tony figured out he had to keep a certain set of rules for successful consumption. First, the flat plates had to go. Second, food that required cutting or any form of eye to hand coordination was a sure fire way to get his nerves fraying. He closed his useless eyes for the entire duration of every meal, because he found that if he didn't, his mind still acted like he could see, and bad things happened to good honest men.

Once food had been consumed, and with nearly no incident, Tony disposed of its container in the sink, leaving cleaning duty for Dum-E. It had been a pain to upgrade the mechanical arm enough that it would actually be useful for anything other than wreckage. In Tony's current condition, he had no choice but to utilize all the help he could.

The next day, Tony woke up slowly. He'd had a bad case of waking up badly ever since he lost his eyesight. Sometimes he'd forget he couldn't see and would stumble out of bed blindly, only to jerk into the realization and be forced to deal with the loss all over again. Other times, the constant darkness lured him in, encouraged him to sleep more. So that morning, Tony took a long time to wake up, and when he finally dragged himself to the kitchen, it was already rather late in the morning.

Nursing a coffee mug, Tony finally relented that he could call Steve and not appear creepy. He contemplated having Jarvis call Steve on the house speakers, but then decided it would be too impersonal and pulled out his phone from his pajama pants pocket instead.

The phone rang for a full twenty seconds before Steve picked up. No greeting came, so Tony awkwardly waited a beat before speaking.

"Hello?"

"Yes, hi." Steve's voice came through, sounding relieved. "Thanks for uh, speaking first." He said, and Tony tried to imagine what kind of expression he would have on his face. "Most people just hang up when I… And some of them don't even…"

"Hey, it's cool." Tony said, calm and light. "For formalities, this is Tony from the other day at the grocery store, to whom you unwittingly gave you phone number." He grinned to himself, and when Steve didn't say anything to that, he continued. "I was hoping you'd still be alright with the date thing…"

"Yes." Steve spoke over him. "Yes but…" and there was that hesitation again. Tony guessed what Steve might be worried about, but didn't speak. "But what.. I mean. You're…"

"Blind. What can a blind man do for a date, is that it?" Tony asked, tone still light, to indicate he wasn't in the least bit bothered by Steve's inability to even phrase what he'd been worried about.

"Well…"

"How about you let me take care of the what and the how? If you're still interested, that is." Tony offered. He'd felt Steve needed the reassurance, and didn't mind handing it out freely. Why, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was the exact brand of warmth that Steve's face had radiated under his fingers, or maybe it was the gelled alcohol. Either way, Tony wanted to at least do his best. He could be pretty darn great in a relationship when he had his mind set on it. Of course, he'd have to convince Steve a relationship with him would be a good idea before he'd get on the high horse of actually being in one.

"Still interested." Steve said thinly, then added, "but I'd like to know about the what and how in advance. I can't-I can't-I can't just. I just need to know." And the moment of quiet after this was as awkward as Tony remembered the first meeting had been. He smiled absently.

"How long in advance do you need to know? I'll work with your schedule." Tony reassured, turning instinctively into his phone. He hoped Steve wasn't too embarrassed with the minor displays of his disorder. Steve didn't speak again, and Tony cursed the quality of the line. He couldn't read the man very well without his ability to tune in to the way he was breathing.

"Give me three days." Steve said, which Tony immediately put into that little compartment in his head - Steve preferred odd numbers. He remembered Steve preferred the ones above five more so than the ones under, and that five was a big no no, so that meant that Steve was eager to meet.

"You got it, Steve. I'll plan it out, and will let you know no later than three days in advance. Is there anything in particular you prefer to avoid?" He asked, pseudo casually. He needed to make sure he wouldn't accidentally plan anything Steve couldn't do.

"Fish. Crowds." Steve counted, then in a lower voice added, "numbers. Children. Sand. Sticky seats." He gulped, this was clearly audible through the phone, "clowns."

"How's water for you?" Tony asked, taking the conversation in a different direction. Clearly, restaurants would've been a bad idea to begin with, since Tony wouldn't be able to eat normally and it would've made Steve anxious. Fairs were off the list as soon as Steve said he didn't like crowds. Tony figured maybe a ride in his yacht would work nicely. It'd be a neutral place, it's clean, there would be no sand or people aside for Tony's carefully picked serve-staff.

"Not so big on swimming…" Steve said, tone rueful and self deprecating.

"No swimming, just saling."

"That's… That'd… That'd be okay." Steve said. Tony heard something thudding on the other end of the line, but decided not to press the issue.

"Alright! Then how about a ride in my yacht? It'll take a few days to set it up for a cruise anyway, it's clean, there'd only be my serve-staff on board…"

"That sounds great, Tony." Steve said, his tone, at last, sounding relaxed rather than strained or apologetic, and Tony counted it as another small win.

"Great, then I'll text you three days in advance the meeting place and time, how about that?"

"Thank you." And Tony had to stifle his indignation with the expression of gratitude. How many people had Steve met in his life that weren't accommodating of his disorder? It wouldn't be far fetched to assume this didn't usually happen to Steve, so Tony bit his tongue and instead sighed.

"You're very welcome. Our first date is going to rock. You'll see." He assured, and Steve actually chuckled at that, making Tony grin.

"I'll hold you to that."

"You better."

"See you, Tony."

Apparently, Steve preferred to be the first to hang up. Tony was alright with that. He set the phone on the dining table and leaned back in his chair, tilting his head back and setting his eyes on what he imagined would be the ceiling. He didn't actually see anything, but the habit of staring off at the air was very hard to get rid of, and Tony didn't feel inclined to - this was his own house, he was allowed to act as he pleased.

"How bad have I got it, J?"

"Is that a rhetorical question, sir?"

"Don't be an ass."

"I believe you are showing symptoms of infatuation." Jarvis said, his tone clinical.

"I can always trust you to give me the hard truth to my face, Jarvis."

"It is what I am programmed to do."

"Well, your programmer is a real hot-shot. Introduce me sometime."

"Very well. If I may, there are a few events on the agenda that Miss Potts would like you to go over at your earliest convenience…"

"Hit me."

 

 


End file.
